


when it all becomes too much

by catybug007



Series: and hope [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Drabble, Fix-It, Geraskier, I was in my feelings, M/M, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, brief implied character death, but then i didn't want to make it sad, dadralt, it only lasts like a paragraph basically, post-mountain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:33:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28587252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catybug007/pseuds/catybug007
Summary: “He’s close.”Geralt glances down, “You’re sure?”  Already on high alert once more, looking at each passing face with renewed intensity.“Have I been wrong?”  A raised eyebrow, just as interested in finding him.
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: and hope [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2125194
Comments: 28
Kudos: 136





	when it all becomes too much

**Author's Note:**

> please this is just drabble. there's not even proper formatting! drabbledrabbledrabble

He knew. He knew the second he turned away on that mountain he’d never see the White Wolf again. But the look on his face-

Jaskier turned away.

_I love you, Wolf. And I’ll never stop, cause it’s all that I have left._

_Oh, that’s good._

Words left unsaid may be better off that way. That doesn’t mean they should go unsung.

Sometimes pain is too great a burden to shoulder alone. It should be felt and seen and heard by many. Shared by many. It would drag you down and tear out your insides if it could. 

So what if no one heard from the Witcher, Geralt of Rivia’s Bard again after one last, long sorrowful ballad? So what if no one knew what happened to Dandelion the Troubadour, lover of many, scoundrel to more? So what if Julian Alfred Pankretz returned to his family home as only a Prodigal Son could? So what if Jaskier passes soon after?

What does it matter, so long as his pain was felt. All the way out to the coast, some say. It echoed across the seas so loudly the other side of the Continent could hear it rebound.

… 

A small, pale hand reaches out for one much larger, hidden in black, studded, _worn_ leather. “We have to get him back.”

“Whatever you say, Princess.” They walk together through cobbled streets of Lettenhove. Hand-in-hand. Inseparable. A Witcher and a little girl wind their way, both impatiently searching for a man they’ve both been missing. 

_We can’t go on without him. I can’t go on without him._

…

“Did you hear what happened to the young Master Pankratz?”

“Suicide I heard.”

“Naw, murder’s the word.”

“You’re both very wrong, I’m afraid. He died of a broken heart.” A rueful smile touches pink lips, not quite reaching kohl-lined eyes. “Took one too many beatings, as it were.” A practiced hand ruffles long, brown hair, making it lie _just so_.

“Oh? And what do you know of it?” 

“Far too much, I’m afraid.” One last check, “How do I look?”

“Pretty as ever, Julek, love.”

“Off I go then, wish me luck! And patrons!” He whisks off to the street, narrowly missing the chatter of a Witcher spotted in town earlier that morning.

… 

“He’s close.”

Geralt glances down, “You’re sure?” Already on high alert once more, looking at each passing face with renewed intensity.

“Have I been wrong?” A raised eyebrow, just as interested in finding him.

A remark ready, but then-

“JASKIER!” 

Ciri already in his arms as he sprints down the crowded street.

… 

“JASKIER!” His head automatically whips towards that name, that voice. He would know it anywhere and-

There he is. His White Wolf. Barreling down the street, child safe in his embrace.

_Ciri_ \- and he’s off running towards them. Desperate to see them both again. It doesn’t matter. The hurt and pain and grief. It doesn’t matter at all because-

They all collide and suddenly they’re _here_ . Alive. Safe. And- _it’s not fair_.

“It’s not fair how much I love you.” And Jaskier presses his lips to Geralt’s in a brief, searing kiss before breaking off to cover Ciri’s face with them.

One more embrace for the both of them before being ushered back where he came from, to the caravan once more. Quick, furtive glances around. “Hide her.”

…

Ciri automatically went into Geralt’s shadow, clinging lightly to his cloak, channeling what she could into staying invisible.

“Right, very good, my darling girl.” A brief look of bewilderment from Jaskier before he composed himself.

“Geralt, please, follow my lead.” He immediately wilted, arm slung through her father’s, eyelashes batting, “Cub, cover your eyes when we get inside.”

She would not.

… 

Geralt lets himself be led to the caravan, mildly concerned they wouldn’t all fit, even without his Child Surprise. _Jaskier isn’t_. That was good enough for him.

It’s bigger on the inside. _Of course it is._

“Oh, Julek, back already-” sentence cut off short. More words. All Geralt can see is Jaskier’s kohl-lined eyes. His pink lips. Lips that kissed him a few minutes ago. Far too long ago.

_Agreed. It’s not fair._

A slight tug on his cloak to get him moving, following Jaskier further into the caravan.

… 

Jaskier barely has a chance to close his door before being pressed up against it. Urgent lips meet his again. Desperate. Tender. Loving.

“Gross.” A quiet whisper, an even softer laugh from the man in front of him. Jaskier brushes his knuckles lightly against Geralt’s cheek, taking his free hand and twining their fingers together once more.

“You, little cub, do not get a say in this, I’m afraid.” He steps around Geralt to face her, kneeling and opening his arms for her to rush into them again. Never once letting go of his love’s hand.

_Not again_.

“Come, sit with me.” He drags them both over to his bed, nowhere else to sit in the small room.

They nestle up, all three together at the head. Ciri quickly falls asleep between them, a hand on each of their arms.

… 

Geralt pets his daughter’s hair, “She led us here. Spent a lot of energy and magic to track you down.”

“I’ve waited, oh so long, for you to come.”

Another light laugh, “A brothel joke, really Jaskier?” 

“She’s asleep, poor darling.” He matches Geralt’s time, stroking up and down her arm as she shivers between them, “Also you laughed so. Mission accomplished.”

A dazzling smile aimed right at him. A small sun sharing his space and life. How could he have ever given this up?

“She told me we needed you. That you were the missing piece.”

“What on this earth could that mean?”

“No idea. But I’m glad we found you,” he reaches up to hold Jaskier’s face. A small kiss pressed into his palm. “Why are we in a brothel? I thought you were a lord here.”

…

It was Jaskier’s turn to chuckle. “I am. Or. I was. Julian Alfred Pankratz is dead. I was recruited not too long after- well, you know.”

“Jaskier, I’m-”

“No, Geralt. I forgave you a long time ago it seems. I don’t want to live stuck on that mountain. Not anymore. I’m sure you heard my ballad.”

A nod.

“It was my last. My best,” tracing the lines in the palm by his face now for the hundredth time. “That was going to be the end of it all. But. I was approached by the powers that be and asked to serve a more...covert sentence.”

“And they sent you to a traveling brothel?”

“It’s amazing what happens behind closed doors. What one hears with their legs open.”

A creased brow. “Come with us, back to Kaer Morhen. We can protect you there from them all.”

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple, my dear.”

“It could be.”

A soft smile. A brief press of lips to a knit forehead, a strong hand through white hair. “Sleep my darling, Wolf. We can talk more later.”

Gentle rumbling. A small head resting on his chest. 

_Perhaps it could be._

… 

A few days later… three figures leave an old caravan in the early morning. Hand-in-hand-in-hand. Inseparable.

**Author's Note:**

> i will be surprised if i don't delete this entire fic by morning
> 
> Edit: I AM NOT DELETING THE VOTE IS IN THE FIC STANDS
> 
> Please feel free to follow me so we can exist together:  
> Twitter: @catybug007  
> Tumblr: @himbo-caty


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